Creed had moved into the crowded room as discretely as he was able to. That really was not entirely discretely for a man his size, but he had tried. He had shaved his facial hair off, it would be back in an hour or two, but for now it at least made him look less like the wild man he was. His long hair was tied back, a trench coat covering his large form, he dressed well enough beneath that. He had taken a seat near the back of the room, he more than confidant in his ability to clear the distance between his seat and his target. He settled his bulky frame into the small chair, folded his clawed hands in his lap and waited. He had to make sure his timing was good, that all the cameras were on Chicken Little in order to make his employer happy.
He sniffed the air discretely, trying to decide who all was here. Lots of Stumpy's buddies, from the smells of it. And Sushi Girl. Creed generally believed that he was above needing help from anyone, but knowing that the crazy little bitch had his back was something which pleased the big, smelly cat. He flexed his toes and claws inside his boots, trying to keep himself calm and controlled as he waited for the right moment to strike. He wanted those wings, or at least one. It would look damn good mounted to the wall of his motel room with a railroad spike.